


Forgive me

by Halevetica



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale never goes back to earth after being discorporated, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Not A Happy Ending, Sad, The apocalypse that was, too late confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 09:09:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19903288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halevetica/pseuds/Halevetica
Summary: The apocalypse happens and Crowley and Aziraphale are fighting on opposite sides.





	Forgive me

There were many things the movies got wrong about the apocalypse. There were no giant robots that would fight monsters from another realm. There would be no virus that wiped out the opposing side. Bruce Willis wasn't going to sacrifice himself so that earth could keep on rotating.

There were, however, some thing the movies did get right. The body count for one. The destruction on such a level that the human race would never be able to recover even if they lived, which they wouldn't.

Crowley and Aziraphale had done their best to stop the apocalypse. However, when the final horn sounded, the destruction began.

Aziraphale hadn't meant to get sent back to heaven, but he had, and he was forced into line with his war attire, and had been issued a new sword, much like his previous one.

He'd pleaded and begged to be sent back to earth but the general, whose name Aziraphale didn't know, had shouted for Aziraphale to get in line.

The angel only hoped that Crowley had made it to alpha centauri and was safe from the up and coming war.

What he didn't know was that the demon hadn't gone to alpha centauri after all. In fact he was sitting in a bar in soho wallowing in the loss of his best friend.

-

Seventy days times seventy, that's how long the war was supposed to last. They were only on day sixty of the war and Aziraphale was tired. He had watched the world he loved burn. The antichrist had brought destruction and showed no mercy.

Aziraphale pretended to be into the war, he carried out his orders, all the while asking about Crowley along the way. He'd ask about the demon and then he'd drive his sword through them like he used to a butter knife to the honey butter he put on yeast rolls at the Ritz. Oh how he longed for those times once again.

No news of Crowley was the best news to Aziraphale, that must have meant he was up in the stars, not thinking of him, just as he'd claimed.

A pain in the angel's chest reminded him that was the last time he'd seen Crowley and that he would never see him again.

It made the angel consider, for just a moment, letting this demon get the best of him. However, not knowing for sure if Crowley was okay kept him going. Maybe he could slip away and to alpha centauri to find the demon. Beg him to let him stay, apologize for refusing him time and time again.

"Aziraphale, a new army is making it's way up over those hills. Take care of them, will you?" Gabriel spoke up then. His eyes peering down at the dead demon Aziraphale had just killed.

"Yes, of course, right away," Aziraphale nodded. He turned to the hill to see it was only a small army. No more than twenty. He'd taken on more and won, of course it wasn't easy.

"Stop there, you shall not go any further," Aziraphale demanded in a stern voice as he marched forward.

Gabriel had flown off, delivering more orders no doubt, leaving the principality alone.

"Aziraphale?"

The angel would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Crowley?" Relief and dread washed over Aziraphale simultaneously. He was alive, but he was caught right in the middle of this war.

"You lot, go set fire to that steeple, I'll handle this one," Crowley ordered his troops.

"But sir-"

Crowley hissed, causing the questioning soldier to run off with the rest.

"You're alright, I thought..." Crowley trailed off. Images of a burning bookshop flashed through his head. "You were dead. I couldn't...I couldn't find you." It had been the only reason he was fighting. He wanted to wipe out heaven for what they did to his angel.

"Oh," Aziraphale gave a nervous glance over his shoulder. If he was caught talking with Crowley, he'd be more than reprimanded.

"Wait..." Crowley's relieved expression turned to one of betrayal, "You joined the fight. You left me," his tone was quiet and broken, like saying the words would physically hurt him.

"What? No, of course I didn't. I was accidentally discorporated. I tried to get back but...they wouldn't let me," Aziraphale took a step forward before glancing over his shoulder again. "I thought you went to alpha centauri."

"No, I came back for you, again, but...you were gone...the bookshop was in flames, I thought they got to you," Crowley reached out a hand, but stopped when Aziraphale flinched away.

"Angel," Crowley's tone was almost pleading, "Don't be afraid. Not of me."

"You're my enemy, Crowley," Aziraphale huffed, as if that was reason enough.

"I've never been your enemy, angel, never."

"What am I supposed to do? I've been ordered to kill you and your army," Aziraphale pointed at the slew of demons Crowley had been leading.

"And I you," Crowley's voice was quiet again.

"Oh, my dear boy," Aziraphale took another step forward.

"Why didn't you just run away with me? We could have avoided all this," Crowley gestured to the destruction around them. Burning buildings and dead bodies.

"I'm so sorry," Aziraphale's eyes pricked with tears.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Crowley asked, a new expression on his face that Aziraphale had never seen before.

Aziraphale pursed his lips, trying to hold back tears. How could he drive his blade through the one person he loved most in all the universe?

Crowley dropped to his knees, holding his arms out in surrender, "Then do it. I don't want to live in a world where you're my enemy, angel, so do what you must."

"Stand up, Crowley. You're making a scene," Aziraphale pulled the demon to his feet by the lapels of his war attire, a grey jacket that buttoned unfashionably up the middle.

Aziraphale didn't release Crowley. His hands held the demon tighter as they began to shake.

"I'm sorry, my dear," Aziraphale couldn't help the tear that slipped down his face. "I'm so sorry."

Crowley pulled Aziraphale into him, "It's alright, angel. I forgive you." He spoke into the angel's shoulder as he held him.

"Sir," A voice shouted causing Aziraphale to yank himself out of Crowley's grasp.

The next moment happened so fast Crowley didn't have time to process it until he saw the blade skewered through his angel.

One of his soldiers had snuck up behind Aziraphale and gone for the killing blow.

Blood spilled from the angel's lips in color so dark it could have been black.

"Aziraphale," the name was barely a breath from Crowley's lips.

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you, sir?" the soldier, whose name Crowley hadn't bothered to learn, asked.

Crowley's eyes blazed as they met with the young demon's. The others had taken to fighting another angel several yard away.

Crowley shot a hand out, catching the soldier by his throat. He snatched the blade with his angel's blood still dripping from it and shoved it through the demon.

Crowley dropped to his knees next to Aziraphale and scooped the angel into his arms. He hugged the lifeless angel to his chest.

"Aziraphale, please, please," Crowley begged for the angel to open his eyes. "I'm so sorry. I should have been able to protect you. I'm so sorry, angel. Please, please, forgive me."

Aziraphale didn't respond.

"I love you, angel, please don't leave me. Not again," A sob ripped from Crowley's chest as he held his angel. He didn't care about the war. He didn't care that his army was being slaughtered less than a hundred feet from him. The only thing he truly cared about was in his arms.

He knew the angels would come for him next and he'd let them.


End file.
